My Mind is My Own, Why Must You Steal It?
by thelich2001
Summary: She gritted her teeth, front incisors crushing soft lips. a sharp intake of breath as the shard traced a ruby river across her wrist. time blurred and already discordant memories swelled in cacophony. until...only his face remained, to be swallowed by quiet... dark.
1. Chapter 1

This is my new story. It is a Very dramatic Angsty story, which will come into play more in later chapters. right now this is just shitty buildup. Enjoy!

My Mind is My Own, Why Must You Steal it?!?!??!

Chapter 1: we will **explain** the **motive **but not the** story**.

_As the knife hit the ground a scene flashed through this broken woman's mind, then another, then another. These memories strung together, wound around one another, finally merging into the past. As her body grew cold she remembered. As her life waned she saw his face. As the blood pooled around her wrists, following the downhill slope of the bathroom before coming to her slender torso and then her head until it finally reached the drain, she knew exactly what had brought her to this point. She gritted her teeth from the pain, not only from her wrists but also from…him._

Hermione an attractively skinny woman of 17, sat alone. Her bushy brown hair flowed down past her shoulder blades and a few strands in front threatened to get in her eyes. She liked the solitude, being eye catching in any mood, of the library with only the dusty volumes of time forgotten to keep her company. She riffled through "_Psychology: Muggle Muck or Magical Mystery?" _searching for an explanation to her depression. She felt that she was close to an answer when Harry walked up.

He sat beside her in the Crimson armchair, his body sinking deep into the voluptuous folds of stuffing. She loved that body that hard, toned…NOOO! She wouldn't allow herself to think like that. Harry was a friend; she knew this and intended to keep it that way.

"Hullo," whispered Harry with just a hint of unbelievable sadness in his voice.

"Wow you sound horrible," Hermione whispered back, "rough day?"

"You wouldn't believe how horrible it has been!" He said a little louder then he meant to, causing madam Pince to eye them with distaste and Hermione to shush him. "This homework load has just gotten unbelievable!"

Hermione's eyebrows elevated the half inch that stated, 'you wanna talk about work' and Harry smiled apologetically.

Hermione lowered her head once more and resumed her reading. She drifted in and out of the conversation with Harry, sometimes listening intently and others only nodding occasionally. As she neared the 400th page of the book, it became apparent that Harry was no longer talking. She slowly looked up and caught his eye

"Um, Harry why are you looking at me like that?" Hermione asked. She began to fidget uncontrollably as Harry's fierce green eyes bored into hers. "Seriously Harry, knock it off. Please Harry you're making me uncomfortable!"

Harry smiled at her, "Sorry Hermione I was just watching you read,"

She laughed nervously, "Beg your pardon?!?"

Harry looked down and mumbled, "Nothing, never mind."

Hermione's laugh pealed through the library and madam Pince chose that moment to swoop down on the pair of them and force them from the library. For two seventeen year old wizards, being hurled from a library by a woman no taller than five feet was quite an embarrassing experience.

Hermione gestured to Harry in the direction of the dormitories and Harry, laughing quite uncontrollably, nodded so they started walking. Their conversation during the walk back never deviated from conventional subject material. Hermione had learned long ago that to talk of anything serious in Harry's presence was an immediate opportunity for him to practice babbling like a cretin. She laughed at Harry's anecdote as they reached the fat lady's portrait

"Hoodwink." Hermione said in response to the fat lady's usual query. The portrait swung open to reveal the common room. Hermione gracefully climbed through with Harry clambering inside in her wake.

Ron was sitting in the largest chair next to the fire. His face bore the unmistakable signs of sorrow and pity. He looked up as his two friends entered and he turned pale. "Hermione, you've got post from your mum." Ron grimaced as he handed her the envelope clutching it as though it were about to explode.

"What in the world could this be about? And why did the post arrive special delivery?"

Ron shook his head and pointed to the letter.

It read:

_Hermione my dear daughter,_

_I know you must be swamped now, it being  
your last year at Hogwarts and all.  
However, I know that this is something you  
need to know. You will have to forgive me  
sweet heart, this is a little to hard to write  
least of all to you. Your father… was hospitalized  
several days ago, for a major heart attack.  
Today at just about noon, he fell asleep and  
didn't wake up. I will understand if you don't want  
to leave school to come to his funeral, but  
I thought I should give you the opportunity.  
I'm so sorry you had to find out this way Hermione.  
This has hurt us all, but I can't begin to imagine  
how this must affect you. I hope to see you soon_

_Mum._

The letter fluttered to the ground as it fell from Hermione's limp hand. Harry had been reading over her shoulder, and now he put his arm around her pulling her into a hug. Ron stood back from the two of them trying to gauge her reaction.

When they came, Hermione's tears were small and soft. They fell upon Harry's shoulder with a soft _plik_ noise and soaked into his robes. Hermione shuddered against him as her grief spilled from her body.

Harry for his part held her as gently and chastely as he could. He whispered "It's alright," over and over in her ear, and Ron rubbed Hermione's arm in a tender way. He looked to Harry for guidance as to what to do, but when none came he simply continued to rub her arm

Hermione cried for several hours, during which neither Harry nor Ron left her side. When her tears finally stopped, Hermione looked up at the two of them. Her eyes had a dead, hollow look in them as she said, "Thank you you two. I'm kinda tired. I think I'm going to bed." She rose from her chair, and departed up the girls dormitory starecase. Harry and Ron looked at each other. They were both sorry for Hermione, but could do nothing to help her.


	2. chapter 2

A/N hello there all you happy peoples, sorry it's been so long since blah blah blah. Same tired story right. Truth be told I was just lazy. That's why you can't read the pretty story! Nyah ha ha ha! Well at least I gave you guys my longest chapter ever. Hope ya like it! READ AND REVIEW PEOPLES!

Chapter 2: when your wish upon…oh baby you haven't cried enough yet.

Hermione screamed as her head shot from the pillow. She frantically tried to convince herself it was all a dream, but Soft tears coursed down her cheeks as her battle was lost. It was not a dream; no white knight would ride in and save her from the truth, and No matter how much she denied it, her father really was dead.

All morning people had tried to coax Hermione out of her dormitory, but to no avail. She remained locked up tight, both physically and mentally. Some people, when struck by tragedy, eat. Hermione hated those people. Some, when saddened beyond belief, cry for hours. Hermione detested them more. Some people simply shut down and refused contact with anyone. These Hermione loathed most of all, because after eating a pint of ice cream and sobbing for an hour…that's exactly what she did. She sat in her four poster bed and did nothing. She didn't notice the snow falling on to the window panes, didn't see that the merrily burning fire was dwindling, and didn't notice the shaggy black head of hair cross the room and kneel by her bed…at first.

After Harry had secured permission to override the security measures on the girls dormitory, (several lengthy forms had to be filled out to receive the password allow boys up there) Lavender had shown Harry which dormitory she and Hermione inhabited. Standing in front of the door, Harry knocked twice.

"Hermione?" he called quietly

No answer came from the room. Harry glanced down both ends of the stairway. Aside from a portrait of a young dog sleeping lazily, nothing disturbed the gray stone steps.

Harry tried the knob once and was unsurprised to find it locked. He drew his wand out of his robes and pointed it at the door and thought "alohomora." Harry caught the irony in that Hermione had been the one who had shown him the spell.

As He stepped into the room a look of disgust swept his face. Excluding Hermione's section, the entire room was assaulted by a putrid shade of pink. Pink wall hangings, pink beds, pink bed curtains, pink posters, pink carpet, nearly everything was pink. It seemed lavender assumed control no matter what kind of relationship she had with people, friendship or otherwise. Harry sniggered as he imagined each fiery row the two girls would have had if Lavender had tried to force her pink world upon Hermione.

Of course Hermione's maroon bed curtains were greatly appreciated by Harry. He walked towards their distraction whispering Hermione's name. He noticed some of the items surrounding her bed, tissues, ice cream containers, little bits of trash and the like, and knew which stage of dealing with death she was in. He saw her lying on the bed and a pang of sorrow tinged with sympathy stabbed at him. It started at his Heart and slowly spread through him, so he ached all over with emotional pain. He walked over and knelt by the bed waiting for Hermione to notice him.

Hermione blinked twice.

"HARRY?!? WHAT IN GOD'S NAME ARE YOU DOING HERE?!?" She screamed

Harry jumped back in alarm. His eyes had been directed at the book sitting on her night stand, the same book she had been reading in the library last night. However he quickly regained his composure. He tried for several minutes to calm her down but to no avail. She simply continued to scream at and insult him.

"I just wanted to check on you Hermione," he said finally.

Her insult caught in mid shout and she stared at him. One spectacular blush was inching up her face.

"Harry…I didn't…I didn't mean," she began.

Harry smiled at her cutting her off with a wave of his hand. "Don't worry Hermione, Its understandable. If I was just startled by someone who looked like me, I might overreact to." He said sarcastically

"You're funny," she said rolling her eyes

Harry grinned at her, "and cute huh?"

"And entirely modest," She laughed and grinned back, "thanks Harry. I really needed that."

Harry looked into Hermione's eyes, "I know that Ron and I probably aren't the best at understanding." He said as his hand moved up to brush her shoulder, "I know we crack a lot of jokes, but just know that we both love you. When you're ready we would really like to see you. All of us," he said

Hermione bit her lip. She looked out the window trying to get away from Harry's gaze. She abruptly changed the subject. "So what did I miss last night?"

"Hermione," Harry said, "don't evade this. It will only make things worse."

"I'm not evading this Harry."

"Common Hermione. You completely changed the subject."

Hermione began to take the offensive, "Well well, you just know everything don't you Harry? Here you are yelling at me for not saying what I feel, Didn't you write the book on that you prat?! You spent all summer two years ago letting your anger bubble up until it exploded on us. How do you have the right to yell at me? Does your past give you special privileges? Poor you, everyone you love dies!" the words turned to bile in her throat, but for some reason she couldn't stop the torrent. Every horrible feeling that had been bubbling inside her frothed into a cascade of curses and insults. Harry for his part took it very well. "The boy who lived is also the boy who grieved, huh?! Admit it you bastard, you don't give a damn about me! You're just like Ron! You only want to get in my knickers! I'm just your damned encyclopedia! You don't care that I have feelings!

Harry waited patiently while Hermione's spleen was given full vent. He cringed slightly as Hermione's voice hit a pitch seldom hard by humans and often by cats. After several minutes of name calling, Hermione began to ransack the room. Fluffy pink damask pillows flew at or around him. He would duck and weave but never moved from the bed. Crookshanks set one paw in the room and was promptly struck with a sweater. His tail shot out of the room at a breakneck pace. Had his life not been in jeopardy, Harry would have laughed.

After several minutes and more than a few bruises for Harry, Hermione finally fell in a heap on the ground as sobs racked her body. She motioned for Harry to come closer and as he did she flung herself into his arms. Harry was surprised at first, but quickly his male instincts took over and he held her close. He could tell this was a situation when only time would heal.

After an hour or so, Hermione seemed to be stable enough to venture out into the world of the living. She and Harry made their way down to the common room. Ron was sitting near to the fire waiting for them. Hermione, in the lead, picked her way through the chairs and tables. As she reached Ron's chair, she thought she saw a flicker of purest anger cross his face, but it was gone in a moment so it was forgotten

Ron walked over to where Harry was standing and quickly whispered into his ear. Harry abruptly nodded and shot Ron a warning look. At this point Hermione was absolutely nonplussed. She looked at Harry and Ron in succession.

"Ok, mind telling me what is going on?"

Ron looked at her, " Well, the truth is we don't want to…to…set you off again."

Hermione shot him a look, "Your confidence in me is overwhelming. Now I'm a big girl, Would you two mind horribly telling me what is going on?

Harry swallowed hard, "we just got news about your dad,"

"Oh you men, Please just tell me what is happening with my dad!"

This time Ron interjected, "The Funeral, it's tomorrow."

Hermione nodded as she fought to keep the tears away. "Suppose I should go pack then?"

Harry took her hand in his, "we're going with you," he said.

Hermione pulled both of them in to a tight hug. Harry was sure before the end of the week there would be even more hugs.

The church's domed ceiling gave Hermione an awful case of vertigo. The Red velvet clashed horribly with all the black in the room, and even though her fathers casket was the center of attention, Hermione couldn't look at it.

Naturally the entire service flew by to Hermione. Her own eulogy was only remembered as a blur. At the wake, the faces of every person she shook hands with blended together. She couldn't distinguish between one mass of flesh and another. Just like earlier, Hermione retreated into herself. She allowed the wood paneled reception hall to fade from her eyes. Each person's billowing black robes melted into a lump or darkness. The hands brushing her own lost their feel. Hermione's body automatically responded, even though her heart was numb.

Ron and Harry sat in the entrance hall of the funeral home. They had both tried to help Hermione through her grief, but to them it was apparent that hugs and hand squeezes would do nothing to help her through

Ron let out a sigh as he rubbed his legs. "ooof mate, this sure does take the Mickey out of ya."

Harry chuckled and thought for a minute, "reminds me of when we had to clean out grimmauld place. That was the roughest week of my life, and **I lived with the Dursleys!"**

Quiet chuckles rolled out of the entrance hall. The two friends reminisced for a few minutes. Pointless banter can only stave off uncomfortable silences for so long, and much as they hated it, eventually their words failed them.

Ron finally looked at Harry before clearing his throat, "Harry," he said, "don't you think we should talk about this?"

"Talk about what mate?" Harry asked smiling.

"Common Harry, you know I'm talking about the way Hermione's been acting lately."

Harry tried to feign stupidity, "oh what about her?"

"You know. She has been acting weird all day. What with her constant spacing out, and when she was talking with her mother."

Harry frowned, "Ron stop being an ass. She just lost her father. I think in the long run people are allowed some bizarre happenings when that occurs. Wouldn't you?"

Ron just wouldn't let the subject go, "But you know she was acting really weird, like weird even for just losing her fa…"

"Ron, I'm telling you right now, DROP IT!"

Ron opened his mouth as if to retort, but closed it just as quickly.

They sat there in silence until Harry finally spoke, "Look Ron, I'm not trying to be a prat. I just don't want to upset Hermione any more than she is. You can understand that can't you? I just want her to be able to get through this day and get back to Hogwarts without doing something stupid. So please Ron, just for me, let it go."

Ron started to nod. He opened his mouth to speak but never got a single word out, because from that moment an earsplitting scream rang out of the reception hall.

Harry was sitting in Grimmauld place drinking a cup of Mr. Weasly's special tea. He had taken care of everything for Hermione. It had taken but the work of a moment to bring her back to the house and set her in the bed. He knew that what she needed right now was a good long rest. Now alone in the sitting room, his eyes began to wander. He searched for anything to keep his mind off Hermione. Without realizing the reason why, his eyes were drawn to the bookshelf and the book Hermione had been reading yesterday evening. As he stared at it, he felt an answer was near. The answer that would surely save Hermione's life.

Seemingly out of his control, his eyes continued to wander around the room, stopping on every little trinket that sparked a memory. The photo of he, Ron and Hermione outside a train station in Manchester just one year ago. Even then Harry's true feelings for Hermione had been clear. However, out of respect for Ron, Harry had maintained a safe and respectable distance from Hermione

Harry forced himself out of his reverie and decided to go check on Hermione. He slowly walked from room to room, taking the longest route to get to the stairs. When he finally reached them he crept as quietly as possible. Somehow he knew that trying not to disturb her was the best course of action. Taking all his talent and coordination, he made it to Hermione's room without a sound. The door swung open on its hinges without a sound, and Harry stepped into the room.

Hermione's voice carried across the still air, "Harry? Harry please come here."

Harry heard the quaver in her voice and felt his heart break. He wished he could take away her pain.

He walked over to Hermione's bed and sat down beside her. Before he could even get a word out, Hermione grabbed him and pulled her head up to his chest. Sobbing into it, she wrapped her arms around him. His left hand automatically shot to the small of her back and started to rub comfortingly.

As she began to stop crying, Harry lifted her head with his hand. He wiped the tears from her cheeks and looked into her eyes.

"Harry…." She began

Harry put one finger to her lips, quieting her. "I would do anything for you Hermione. You know that don't you? What can I do to help you? To take away the pain?"

Hermione raised her head to his, and as her lips touched his all her pain disappeared. She lost all thought but of his soft lips rubbing hers. The turmoil of her depression and sorrow evaporated too quickly to realize. It was like putting a match next to an ice cube, and with every breath that carried his scent she felt herself being drawn into his embrace. She felt his warmth and his body, and the only thing she could think of was the kiss, and Harry. Her Harry.

REVIEW PLEASE!!!!


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